Geghard is a 12th century monastery. The square building is the 'new' building, from the 15th century. Behind that building are three small churches hand-carved by a man in love with God and, possibly, with a nun. It is a fantastic church and I love it strongly and deeply.




It was Christmas mass. There were women from Etchmiadzin singing hymns in crystalline voices and Armenian priests in their tremendous robes, black pointed hats, and house slippers. The patron of Geghard blessed each one of us 'Christ be with you' and it was cold and ancient. I confess to not feeling tremendously holy. There was a feeling of weight and depth. Christianity in the US can feel so new, like at this icky Home Depot church I went to for our Christmas. In Turkey we went to a church and saw the young Turkish visitors staring and giggling and I remember thinking that they were in something they thought was outdated, exotic, and maybe creepy. I like the incense and the pomp and the stamp of time and culture and what it says about human fickleness and frailty.


This is the clique. We had expected a big crowd but the road was icy and people were staying in the city. I asked Hovsep how many accidents he has been in and he claimed none. This was under the evil eye of ancient Christianity, which then made sure that our car spun off the road in Goght. I don't have a picture but it was cartoonish--when we got out of the car, which was tottering off the road, it creaked forward and almost slide down the hill. Thankfully there are 20 Armenian men standing at any given corner who were, with our help, able to pick the unharmed car up and place it back on the road.

Some dude got wasted on New Year's Eve and drove his car right through a road side hut-store on the road to Garni. There was a big steaming hole right through the place and it was all the news until patched up by a mason and the 20 Armenian men watching him.